


Catch Me If I Fall

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Ice Skating, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“…an ice rink? Didn’t I tell you I never wanted to go ice skating again?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch Me If I Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Coco](whenthesuspenderscomeoff.tumblr.com), for my 25 Days of Ficmas thing. <3

“Where are we going?”

“For someone who spends so much time with words, you sure don’t understand the meaning of the word surprise.”

Chris is pretty sure Darren is grinning—it’s this subtle shift in the tone of his voice—but he can’t be sure. Because Darren fucking  _blindfolded_  him and then shoved him in the car. He crosses his arms, moodily, glaring daggers at the inside of the… Whatever Darren used for a blindfold.

“And you sure don’t understand the meaning of the word  _kidnapping_ ,” Chris hisses.

“Is it still kidnapping if you’re not a minor? Wouldn’t it just be abducting?” Darren muses, and Chris feels the car turn off the road and up into a parking lot.

“Abduction, then.”

“No, no, because that would imply you didn’t come with me willingly.”

The car stops, and Chris hears Darren shift the gear into park… Or maybe reverse? Either way, Darren shifts the gear to  _something_.

“I didn’t come with you willingly,” Chris points out, but Darren doesn’t answer.  _Typical_. “Will you take this thing off me now?” Chris would reach for the blindfold, but, after trying to tear it off the first time, Darren had magically produced handcuffs and put Chris’s hands behind his back.

…and now Chris is a little scared about where exactly Darren has taken him and what he plans to do that involves handcuffs and a blindfold. Couldn’t they have stayed home for this?

“Not yet,” Darren sings back at him, and the car turns off. The keys slip out of the ignition, and then the door is opening and closing and… Well, and then Darren is gone and Chris is stuck, blindfolded and handcuffed, in a car.

“If this turns out to be a prank, I am freezing all of your underwear,” Chris mutters darkly under his breath, and then he hears his door open.

“Aw, someone looks grumpy,” Darren coos, reaching across him to unbuckle the seatbelt, and squeezing his thigh as he does so.

“Oh great, now you’re  _molesting_  me.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Darren teases, and then he’s pushing Chris’s back forward enough to get at the handcuffs… And take them off, thank  _god_. Chris immediately rubs his wrists, and his next thought is to pull the  _fucking blindfold_  off, but Darren catches both of Chris’s hands in his.

“Are you wearing gloves?” Chris furrows his eyebrows. “Darren, it can’t be less than sixty-five out, don’t you think gloves are a little unnecessary?”

“Nope.” Darren pops his p and pulls Chris out of the car—he isn’t exactly the most graceful person, and he stumbles right into Darren, hearing the door slam shut behind him.

“You did that on purpose.”

Darren’s breath is suddenly brushing against his ear, and Chris shudders.

“Prove it.” Darren is grinning again. Chris  _knows_. “Come on.” Darren must be walking backwards, and wouldn’t it be easier to just take Chris’s blindfold off? But he leads Chris, somewhere, glove fingers laced through with his bare ones.

*

It’s really cold.

Wherever they suddenly are, it’s  _freezing_  and Chris can hear the whir of some sort of fans, or machinery, or  _something_ , and it’s a little disorienting. But he’s hardly shuddering before there’s the sound of a zipper being pulled open, and then Darren is tugging his arms into a jacket.

“You know, I could dress myself if you let me take the blindfold off,” Chris grinds out, his patience with Darren’s game running thin.

“But I like dressing you.” Darren’s hands run up Chris’s arms and over his shoulder, and linger after they slip each button home. Then Chris feels Darren tug gloves onto his hands—and really, this is getting  _ridiculous_ , it would be five hundred times easier for Chris to do it  _himself_ —and then Darren is behind him. Chris can feel the fingers close over the knot, and suddenly Darren’s voice is close by his ear.

“Ready?”

Yes… And no. Chris is both eager and terrified to find out what’s on the other side of his blindfold.

It slips away without any other warning, and Chris has to blink against the sudden influx of bright (artificial) light after all that time in the dark. It takes him a moment, eyes pinging back and forth, adjusting, before it registers where he is.

“…an  _ice rink?_ ” He isn’t mad, but he isn’t exactly thrilled either. “Didn’t I tell you I never wanted to go ice skating again?”

“I took that to mean you never wanted to ice skate again for eleven hours straight in front of cameras, crew, and fans.” Darren is already in skates, and Chris doesn’t know when he put them on, but he’s holding a pair up for Chris.

“I don’t really want to spend the afternoon falling on my ass…” Chris says, hesitantly, but Darren just smiles.

“You won’t. There’s no one here, Chris. It’s just you and me.”

And… And Darren’s right. It’s quiet because there is literally no one else in the entire rink, although there must be someone else in the building… But Chris doesn’t know where.

“You…”

“Rented out the entire rink. Only for two hours.” Darren shrugs like it’s no big deal. “But there’s no one here. No cameras, no one is filming or taking pictures, and… I won’t let you fall, okay?”

Darren holds out his free hand, skates still dangling hopefully, and Chris takes a deep breath and reaches forward. Their fingers weave together.

“Okay.”

*

Darren skates out onto the ice first, and Chris watches from the entrance to the rink as he skates loops around the perimeter. He’s good, but Chris already knew that. Darren knows he can skate, but he doesn’t do anything particularly brag worthy (although, not tilting or flailing is brag worthy enough for Chris). He comes to a stop all too quickly in front of Chris, skates sending shards of ice off to the side, and Chris can’t help but lift a hand as if to shield himself (even if he’s in no danger of getting hit).

“Ready?” Darren asks, a little breathless and a lot excited. He holds out his hands, palms up, and Chris hesitates for a moment before taking a hesitant step on the ice.

Immediately, he feels unbalanced, his ankles already protesting as he wobbles from side to side, but then Darren’s hands are closing tight around his and Chris has something to hold his balance.

“You’re doing great.”

Chris snorts, but he appreciates Darren’s effort at making him feel better about this whole thing.

“We’re going to move now. Remember, like sliding in your hallway in our socks.”

Chris can’t help but smile, and he feels Darren start to move. At first, he’s just tugging Chris across the ice, but then Chris starts to move his feet. He has to remember to  _glide_ , not to  _walk_ , but it hasn’t been that long since Bryant Park, and if nothing else, his muscles seem to remember the movement.

“Chris.” Darren tugs a bit on his hands, not pulling him forward but trying to get his attention. “Look up.”

It hadn’t even occurred to Chris that he’d been looking down, but he had. He’d been watching his feet, watching Darren’s feet, making sure that he was doing it  _right_ , but he looks up then, Darren’s eyes catching him and holding him there.

“Much better.” Darren smiles. “Just look at me, okay? We’re gonna go a little bit faster now.”

“Faster?” Chris squeaks, but then he can feel the speed pick up. He grips tighter at Darren’s hand, and Darren squeezes back, but the sudden pick up is already making Chris scramble his skates against the ice. “Darren,” he warns, uneasily, trying to get back to his glide. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Darren assures him. “Stop panicking.”

Chris looks up to glare at him and—oh, he’d been looking down again. Darren smiles when they make eye contact again, and Chris has to smile back.

“Stop thinking about how you can’t do it, and do it.”

Chris can feel them picking up more speed, and his grip goes tighter.

“I know you can.”

Chris knows he can, too. It’s not perfect, and every time he starts to lilt to the side, Darren holds fast at his arm and straightens him. Chris looks down too often, and Darren always has to call his attention back, and Chris enjoys it so much more when he’s watching Darren’s eyes and not thinking about what his feet are doing (and just letting them do it).

“We’re going to try something else now.”

Chris’s eyes widen. He’s just starting to feel okay doing  _this_.

“Please don’t let go.”

Darren laughs, and his right hand squeezes Chris’s left.

“I won’t.”

But then he releases Chris’s right hand, and Chris arm pinwheels at the sudden loss of anchor—except that Darren is still holding tight to his other hand, letting himself glide around until he’s beside Chris rather than in front of him. They have to rearrange their hands, but then their fingers are locked

“A little warning next time would be nice.”

Darren swings their arms, and the movement makes Chris feel a little off balance.

“I did warn you. I said we were going to try something else.” Darren looks over at him. “Don’t look down, Chris.”

“What?” Chris looks up— _fuck_. He sighs, and then stares ahead, but it’s not the same without Darren’s face smiling back at him. Still, this makes Chris feel less like he’s hopeless and skating and more on par with Darren (even though he’ll never be on par with Darren).

“We’re going to try something else again.”

“But we just—”

Darren swings forward again, but this time Chris starts sliding sideways. He grabs at Darren’s arms, but Darren is still spinning.

“Darren!”

But Darren just laughs, tugging him closer, and they’re still spinning but slowing down, and Chris slams his eyes shut because he’s starting to feel dizzy and like he might fall. His forehead touches against Darren’s shoulder, and he can feel Darren’s fingers splayed over his back, his cheek pressed to Chris’s temple. They’re stopping.

“I  _hate_  you.”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t think that was fun.” Darren’s cheek nuzzles against him, and Chris smiles.

“Yes I can.” But Darren knows Chris, and Chris knows that Darren can hear the smile in his voice. He can feel the gentle pressure as Darren presses his lips against his hair, and Chris smiles again.

“Okay.” Darren says, and he begins to move back again. Chris starts to move again, too, but there’s a difference between going from moving to moving-faster and starting from stopping. He knows he’s going to fall before it happens, feels his balance tilting backwards.

But Darren grabs at him, fast, to keep him up, and Chris feels an overwhelming sense of relief… Before the uncomfortable swoosh in his stomach that always accompanies falling.

Darren groans, even as his arms close around Chris’s waist.

“Well, that wasn’t what I meant to happen.”

It takes Chris a moment to realize that, yes, he fell, but so did Darren… In fact, Chris fell  _on_  Darren.

“You—you  _idiot_ , you should have just let me fall.” Chris reaches forward to pillow Darren’s head with his hands, keeping it off the ice.

“You have such lovely ways of saying thank you,” Darren mumbles, and Chris pets through his hair in apology. “And no I couldn’t, I said I wouldn’t let you fall.” Darren frowns, and Chris can’t help but smile. He leans down, kissing Darren softly.

“You didn’t. You caught me.” Chris kisses him again, and Darren hums appreciatively. “Thank you.”

“You should keep thanking me,” Darren mumbles against his lips, and Chris laughs, the sound echoing through the empty rink.

“Isn’t your ass freezing off?” Chris grins in amusement.

“Let it freeze.” Darren sucks Chris’s lower lip into his mouth, and Chris sinks into the kiss for a moment before Darren’s words register.

“Wait, no, I like your ass.”

“Oh?” Darren wiggles his eyebrows and Chris rolls his eyes.

“Come on. I can hardly feel my knees already, I can’t imagine what you feel like.”

“I think it’s too late. I think my ass is gone.”

Chris shuffles carefully up to his knees, feeling his pants slide against the ice so that he has to wave his arms around to stay upright.

“Come on.” He lifts Darren up by his hands, until they’re both sitting there on the ice. “Maybe we should head home.” Chris presses his hand to Darren’s cheek.

“You sure?” Darren asks, nuzzling into the touch.

“Darren, you can’t feel your ass.”

“Point taken.” He kisses the palm of Chris’s hand, a gesture that’s still sweet even with a glove covering his skin. Chris moves to stand up, before remembering that they’re in the middle of an ice rink, and he’s wearing skates, and there’s no one around to  _help_ him get up.

“Um, Dare… How exactly do we get up?”

Darren laughs, and kisses him again, which isn’t exactly helpful, but Chris isn’t going to complain.


End file.
